He Left Me, Then Got Rich Overnight — But That Money Was Actually Mine
My life changed in a supermarket parking lot.
It had been a month since my divorce from Michael was finalized. His decision—not mine. I didn’t fight it. Sometimes love ends. We hadn’t seen each other since.
That day, while picking up cat food for a rescue at my clinic, a flash of white in the lot caught my eye. A luxury sports car. Sleek. Immaculate. Out of place between two faded sedans. Before I could blink, the driver’s door opened.
And there he was.
Michael stepped out, but he wasn’t the man I remembered. The Michael I knew wore clearance-rack khakis and grocery-store name tags. He worked long hours as a cashier, barely making ends meet.
But this Michael? He wore a designer suit, styled hair, and a Rolex that gleamed in the sun.
I abandoned my cart and walked toward him. “Michael?”
He turned. Recognition flickered in his eyes, then disappeared.
“Wow,” I said, forcing civility. “Looks like you’re doing well. New job?”
His voice was cool. “Katherine, we’re not together anymore. It’s none of your business.”
He turned away but stopped at the entrance. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a bill. “Here. Consider it a parting gift.”
A $100 bill fluttered to the ground at my feet.
I froze. Was he serious?
Throughout our marriage, I earned more. As a veterinarian, I never minded supporting us. Money wasn’t what mattered. We were high school sweethearts. I loved him.
Until he blindsided me with divorce papers.
Now he was throwing money around like a movie villain.
As I bent to pick up the bill, I saw it—a tiny smiley face drawn under the “100.”
My breath caught.
I had drawn that.
Years ago, my grandfather, dying of cancer, had called me into his office. He showed me stacks of bills. “Kat, take this,” he said. “Use it to build your future.”
I refused. “I’m okay, Grandpa. I don’t need it.”
To lighten the mood, I doodled a smiley face on a $100 bill. “Don’t worry about me,” I told him. “Let’s just enjoy today.”
